


A Clownfish and a Mermaid

by doctor_bitchcraftt



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: ABCD tour, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-12-07 06:35:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18231245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_bitchcraftt/pseuds/doctor_bitchcraftt
Summary: A collection of short fics written in response to requests.  AKA even more stories about Adore and Bianca.Stories include the infamous "we're engaged!" moment on the ABCD tour, Bianca helping Adore prepare for AS2, trying to teach Adore how to sew, and why Bianca is never taking a drunk Adore out for pancakes again.  Ever.





	1. Breathing Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This started as a humorous short piece about Bianca kicking Adore out of the sewing room for breathing too loudly. It ended up somewhere else entirely, but I’m not mad at it.
> 
> Somekindofgutterrat, hope you like it!

Everyone - friends, family, their drag sisters, Drag Race fans around the world - could see Bianca’s soft spot for Adore.  

Social media overflowed with theories and lists of ways that Bianca acted and reacted to Adore.

 _..._ Bianca never reading Adore without including some sort of compliment.

...Nights out with just the two of them at Micky’s.  

...The dopey grin plastered across Adore’s face whenever Bianca told a joke.  It didn’t even have to be a particularly _good_ joke for her to laugh like it was the best thing she’d ever heard.  (Bianca thanked the drag deities on a regular basis that Adore still found things funny with the same punchlines for literal years.)

Soft spot or not, Bianca was a sequin’s width away from ejecting Adore from her sewing room.  Years later and Adore was still fascinated by her creative process, avidly watching her drape a new design (cowlneck floor length gowns had variations, dammit) or turn out sequined flowers.  Usually, she enjoyed the company and Adore never made more of a mess than she cleaned up.  

That might have been based on Bianca’s sewing room rules and the threat of having her wigs cut up more than anything else.

Adore hovered well within her personal space (their shared personal space, if she was being honest, and she didn’t need the fans to post screenshots extrapolating the exact distance between them, thank you very much).  For whatever reason, her familiar presence was grating on Bianca’s nerves.  

Whatever reason consisted of the holy trinity (K. Bonet) of too little sleep, too much coffee, and sheer bad luck.

A seam had split on one of her dresses, and it should have been a straightforward repair.  However, her normally problem-free machine refused to cooperate and two broken needles later, Bianca was contemplating murder.  Was it homicide if she killed a sewing machine?

Today, she’d been preoccupied with the demise of her most recent relationship.  She’d said it countless times, traveling and performing meant her personal life had to take a backseat.  Unfortunately, knowing it and feeling it were two different things.

Any other day, she would have responded to the chin propped on her shoulder with an affectionate smile or one-armed hug or, at the very least, with a lack of irritation.  

Today, Adore’s allergies must have been in full force as she sniffled right into Bianca’s ear.

Any other day, she would have handed her a tissue and calmly changed the needle again.

”Do you mind?” 

She could feel the raised eyebrow look of puzzlement and immediately felt guilty.  Worse, Adore probably wasn’t trying to be annoying.

”Wanna say what’s bothering you?”

The thread snapped because she hadn’t properly adjusted the tension.  She gritted her teeth and pulled the spool out to re-thread.

”Nothing, I’m fine.”

Adore started humming (usually something Bianca enjoyed hearing, or could tune out), breath fogging her glasses up on one side.  She fumbled the spool, watching as it rolled across the table, and it suddenly all became too much.

Laganja didn’t have anything on Hurricane Bianca.

“That’s it,” she snapped, shoulderblades bunching together, “out!” 

“-what?” The look of wide-eyed confusion inexplicably added to her annoyance.

”I can’t with you -“ Bianca heard the irritation in her own voice, and the lack of control dialed her frustration up another notch.

”With me what?” 

“- breathing!”  She shrugged the hand off her arm and turned back to the machine, aware of how ridiculous it sounded the moment the words left her lips.

”...the fuck?” Adore’s confusion melted into (justified, Bianca’s brain unhelpfully supplied) indignation.  “Wow.  Fine, whatever,” she tossed over her shoulder as she turned to leave.

”Adore...”

The tension in Bianca’s neck didn’t subside, particularly when she heard Adore drop onto the couch with a growl.

Fuck.

”Get it under control, bitch,” she whispered to the machine.  

Standing, she shuffled into the living room and sat a careful distance from Adore’s deliberately absorbed texting, brow furrowed and with a glare that should have burnt a hole in the screen.  Minutes passed, Bianca staring blankly at the bookcase, considering and discarding various explanations for her behavior.  In the end, she decided to go with the most basic of all.

”I’m sorry.”

Evidently that wasn’t what Adore expected, because she froze in mid-tap before setting the phone down and looking up.

“Really.”  

The flat tone made Bianca cringe.

”...really.  I guess I’m not great company right now.  Look, you don’t deserve me being a cunt because I’m having a shitty day.”

“No, I really don’t.”

”I didn’t mean-“

”You’ve never done that before, and it really hurt.”

For once, Bianca was at a loss for words.  

”...done what?” 

”You pulled away -”

”Fuck.”

”- and fine I get it, you’re having a bad day, but that shit didn’t feel right.”

Adore met her eyes, and she berated herself for causing the mix of defensiveness and pain.  The protective streak for her friends could be described as generous; for Adore it might as well be a mile wide.  And when Bianca herself was the source of what she needed protection from...

”Fuck,” she repeated, “I didn’t mean to.” Bianca pulled her hat off, running a frustrated hand through her hair and gripping it hard enough to sting. 

“It’s nothing to do with you.  I-“

”It sure seemed pretty personal,” Adore cut her off.  “I dunno what’s with you lately, if you don’t want me around just say so.”

”Adore.  Danny.  It’s...please, please believe me that -“ Bianca bit her lip, trying to focus.  “I shouldn’t have.”

”No, you shouldn’t.  You promised that you’d never shut your friends out, but it sure as hell feels that way lately.”

Bianca reached for her hand, heart plummeting when Adore pulled it out of reach.

“That’s what it feels like you’re doing.  And it fucking sucks, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do to help.”

”...you’re helping by being you.”

Adore paused, taking in the defeated posture and replaying the entire conversation in her head.  Blowing out a long breath, she pulled an unresisting Bianca into a tight hug before leaning back enough to press their foreheads together.

“I’m not mad, I just...I love you, okay?  You don’t gotta be fine, just stop acting like you have to figure it out on your own.  You’re always telling me that you’re there for whatever I need, and bitch, it’s supposed to go both ways.”

”...I’m sorry.”

”I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite her social media presence, Bianca/Roy is an intensely private person about personal stuff. However, given some of her Instagram posts about feeling betrayed / what happens when a Cancer is upset around the time a breakup seemed to be taking place...this is what came to mind.
> 
> (From my reply to Civonumisadore):  
> Every time we see Bianca, she always seems to have everything under control - control is a theme, between working hard and committing 100% to endeavors. Under the surface though, I suspect emotions run deep, because that work ethic and constant professionalism means that she has to contain any negativity. Even the most collected people occasionally bend under pressure - I know because I’m one of them.
> 
> So many stories (mine included) highlight Bianca’s protective nature for Adore. I wanted to turn the trope on its head by making Adore the ‘grown up’ in this situation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tardisbewitched requested a backstory for that infamous moment on the ABCD tour when Bianca yelled, "We're engaged!" There's not a lot of context available beyond the short video clip and comments from a couple of the people who attended, unfortunately. Here's my take on what could have lead up to it, and what Bianca might have been thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated May 13 with additional information from Veronica on AQ. Thank you!

[Watch the clip on Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/p/BqyH6GPhUhZ/)

 

_O2 Academy, Glasgow, November 29, 2018_

 

"So last night, I thought I didn't have a bunk," Adore addressed the audience, cutting Courtney's teasing off.  "So I just cuddled with like one of our friends, and I was like, 'I'm so sorry man.'  Like that's my thing anyway..."

"And slightly awkward 'cause she said friend and it really was me, and now we're engaged."  Bianca forced a blank expression on her face as Adore reached out to grasp her hand.  

"Just because you can," Courtney quipped, "doesn't mean you should."

There wasn't quite  _enough_ laughter, and Bianca added something sure to stir trouble.  "Right.  And you know there's some girl in the back writing that fanfiction, 'Oh godddd, oh ughhhhhhhhh'!"

******** 

A few minutes later, Bianca couldn't resist bringing to topic back to what had been such a successful moment of hilarity, playing up the drama as she waited for the right moment.

Adore locked eyes with her for a split second while her back was turned to the audience, long enough to read the devilish gleam behind the blue contacts, and tilted her head in silent inquiry.  

Bianca's wicked grin grew an impossible fraction wider.

"WE'RE ENGAGED!" She pitched her voice low for maximum effect, ensuring that it carried over the noise of 1,200 fans packed into the theater, then calmly started to continue like she hadn't provided enough material already for the fandom to explode. 

"Okay -" 

Feeling a hand on her back, Bianca folded her arms smugly against her chest, deliberately posing while Adore wrapped both arms around her waist.  She gave Courtney a deadpan stare as if her declaration were the most obvious thing in the world, well aware that her body language didn't match, particularly with Adore resting her head on Bianca's shoulder.

A split second later, the roar from the audience accompanied dozens of phones snapping photos.

Bianca turned her head, briefly matching Adore's toothy grin with one of her own.

"All right, ummm..." Courtney laughed and moved on, trying to turn the banter back to their script and mentally shaking her head.

Adore and Bianca were just so....Adore and Bianca.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written on request for biadoresstuff over on tumblr, based on Adore’s tweet about loving and missing her friends.

In the majority of aspects, her “A Pizza Me” tour was turning out to be a complete success.  

Despite nerves and a few technical glitches here and there, the fans were going wild - social media and meet & greet alike - and each city brought a new experience.  The feeling of intimacy while in front of hundreds of people was paradoxical in the best way, a candlelit portrait of what made Adore who she is.  

There’s no one else’s show that she has to fit into, nothing demanding she stay on script.  On the other hand, it’s also daunting when John or the venue staff need an answer.  She’s comfortable with sound checks and lighting, but she’s never been the only one making a final decision about the other stuff.  

Before she left, Adore had asked Bianca for her best advice.  

_“Freaking out a little about remembering what I’m supposed to say,” she admitted._

_”That’s why you have notes.”  Bianca came into view upside down as Adore sprawled across the couch.  “And it’s your show, so you get to decide where it’s going every night.  Read the audience, stick with something that’s working, and if it’s not, drop it and move on.”_

_”What if -“_

_Adore paused to rearrange herself more comfortably as Bianca dropped onto the cushions beside her, tugging the throw pillow out from under her head and replacing it with her own legs._

_”Wish you could tour with me.”_

_”Bitch,” Bianca elbowed her in the ribs lightly, “it’s your one-woman show.  You don’t need a clown for that.  And I’ll be over there to start rehearsals for ‘Jamie’ in a few weeks anyway.”_

_”Yeah, but you always know what to say.”_

_Leaning back, Bianca pulled off her hat and sighed._

_”Years more practice.  You just have to be able to think fast enough and find something. Don’t tell anyone, but I was scared as fuck the first night I did ‘Rolodex’.  If you weren’t worried, then that’s a problem._ _Besides,” she added with a wry expression, “your legions of mermaids don’t care if you stumble a little.  They’ll love you no matter what.”_

_Adore’s lips quirked into a half-smile at the last comment and a little of the tension in her chest drained away._

_“Yeah.  Still gonna miss you though.”_

The heady rush of performing and giving countless hugs and kisses keeps her buoyed high with excitement most of the time.  

Mixed in with the exhilaration though, are a few moments where she can’t wait to tell Bianca something and she’s suddenly struck by a feeling of isolation.

She has John with her, and the Holy Trannity people have been awesome every time, so Adore isn’t going it completely alone.  It’s not like she isn’t used to having her friends spread across the globe, catching up between engagements and texting like mad.  

The tour has been a wild, wonderful experience so far, and that doesn’t seem likely to change.  The only thing missing is sharing it with her nearest and dearest.

Phone in hand, she’s typing and posting a tweet almost before the thought is fully formed.  

A few minutes later, when she’s tucked in bed, her phone dings with a text notification.  It’s only a couple of heart and kiss emojis from Bianca, but it’s enough to send her to sleep with a smile.

 

 **adoredelano** I love my friends.  I miss them everyday I’m gone. 

[Read the original tweet here ](https://twitter.com/adoredelano/status/1113904212063158272?s=21)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ddlovatohart asked for a teacher!Bianca and annoying student Adore...while I don't do AU, I'm hoping this might fit the bill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bianca posted a photo and video of Adore using her sewing machine, but what might have been the lead up?

"What are you doing that for?"

Bianca could feel Adore lurking just over her shoulder, watching as she flipped the facing inside out to understitch.

"This," she paused the row of stitches, "keeps the collar down."

"But you can't even see it!"

"Trust me, it works."

Up until a few seconds ago, she was sure Adore was occupied at the other table sorting (deliberately) mixed rhinestones by color.  While Bianca didn't object to company in the sewing room, the incessant questions had followed her from tracing the pieces to cutting them out and pinning and stitching the foundation seams.  One seemingly poorly timed sneeze later resulted in elbowing a box of rhinestones off the table, providing the perfect task to keep Adore nearby but out of her proverbial hair.

"I'm hungry."

"You know where the kitchen is."

"How long are you going to be doing that?"

"Long en-  you know what?  I think today's a perfect time for you to pick up a new skill."

********

"- light pressure.  Start nice and slow.  Remember, if you can drive you can sew."

Leaning on the back of the chair, Bianca kept her voice level and waited for the familiar hum of the sewing machine to start.

"Uhhhh.  I am.  I think?"  

"More.  Like you're pressing the gas after the car stops.  Actually, no, I've seen you drive."

"Nothing's happening?" 

Bianca bent down to peer underneath the table for a clearer view of Adore's foot.  

"Harder."

"...that's what she-"

"Really, queen?"

"Sorry."

The machine whirred to life, moving the fabric forward under the needle and taking two, three, a half dozen stitches before abruptly stopping.

"You were doing fine, why'd you stop?"  

"It pulled and I got scared!"

"-for the love of...Just hold the fabric steady and let the machine move it for you," she repeated for what felt like the tenth time, "you're guiding it under the needle, so keep it taut but not too much."

Adore let go of the fabric and turned to face Bianca with an uncharacteristically nervous expression.

"What now?"

"Are you sure?  I don't want to break your machine."

"It's industrial," Bianca grated out, "told you before, it's almost idiot-proof."

"Yeah, but...-hey!  I'm not an idiot."

Giving the cast a pointed look, she continued, "Says the person who broke their hand punching a road sign while you were drunk.  I'd say that just about qualifies."  

She ignored the inevitable pout, reaching over to straighten out the strip of fabric and placing Adore's hands back on it.

"Now.  Back, again, it's not going to bite unless you stick your finger under the needle."

"But-"

"There's a line.  A straight line.  Just keep the edge of the fabric even with the line, and it does the work for you."  Bianca gave in to the urge to roll her eyes, planting her other hand on the table and effectively preventing Adore from escaping without going through her first.

"But why do I have to do this?"

"Every queen should at least be able to stick two pieces of fabric together without a glue gun."

"But if it's not Drag Race, why can't I get someone else to do it?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose before quickly replacing her hand as Adore made a move to stand up.

"I'm not always gonna be there to sew for you."  

"Why not?"

"Because I'm busy?"

"You always say you're never too busy for me." 

"Nope.  Just one straight line without stopping."

Adore put on her best hopeful smile and nuzzled her cheek against Bianca's forearm to look up from under her lashes.

"...those eyes don't work on me, girl.  Go ahead and whine, I'm serious here."

"You're so mean," she huffed but turned back to the machine.

"We can check out that new vintage store after."

"Why can't we do that now?"

"I'll buy you lunch."

"You always pay anyway."

"Not the point."

"Ugh, fine."

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Extra Syrup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompt lifted with permission from opossumpussy on tumblr: I can imagine a biadore fic where adore gets drunk at 9 in the morning and bianca takes her to get pancakes at a restaurant and then when the waitress comes she tells her (instead of her order) "i eat ass like its pancakes" and bianca facepalms and just tells the waitress that adore wants a pancake.

Bianca's alarm went off precisely at 7:15.  Pulling her face out of the pillow, she blinked sleepily up at the ceiling, ignoring the rising crescendo of chimes until a groan reminded her that she wasn't alone in the room.  She reached out to silence the phone and pushed herself up on an elbow, watching as the pile of covers on the other bed resolved itself into a very hungover Adore Delano.  

When she'd gone to bed just over five hours ago, Adore had stayed in Jinkx's room with the other girls, still busy giggling and taking shots.  Normally Bianca would have been matching them, but a reminder of their 10 am photoshoot forced her to be the responsible adult (ha!) and she'd collapsed in bed after laying out her drag on the couch.  She didn't remember waking up when Adore came in, so it couldn't have been that long ago.

Adore's displeased moaning picked up a notch when she threw back the covers and turned on the bathroom light, and continued through a quick shower.  By 7:30, Bianca was as awake as she was going to be, downing a cup of generic hotel room coffee to chase away the alcohol fog and rapidly pulling on clothes.  She contemplated letting Adore sleep longer, but they had a full day ahead of interviews after the photoshoot and given the amount they'd both been drinking last night, a heavy breakfast was in order.

"Pussyface." 

The lack of acknowledgement was unsurprising, and she tried again. 

"Time to get up, queen."

All that was visible of Adore outside of the covers was her messy hair and one tattooed hand.  Reaching out, Bianca peeled back the duvet to find six feet of mermaid looking more like a fish out of water, curled in on herself and only half undressed.  She gripped one of the exposed hips and heaved Adore's dead weight over, waving a second cup of coffee near her face before opening the blackout curtains.

"Come on, I know you can hear me."  Bleary eyes opened a sliver, far enough that she could make out pupils sluggishly responding to the light.  

She set the coffee on the nightstand and gently cupped Adore's cheek, examining her for signs that she was anything but overly intoxicated before sighing in a mix of relief and exasperation.  Combined with the smell of alcohol and uncoordinated attempt to grab the mug, Bianca rolled her own eyes expressively and revised Adore's status from "very hungover" to "still drunk".

Fucking great.

"C'mon.  Shower, then breakfast.  You smell like a bar floor."

Looping her arms underneath Adore's shoulders, she dragged her into a sitting position, trying and failing to not be charmed by the sloppy smile she received when Adore's eyes opened the rest of the way.  It took a combination of prodding and pulling, but they made it as far as the bathroom sink.  Bianca shoved a toothbrush in Adore's hand and retrieved her phone from the nightstand, texting the one person she knew would be completely sober right then.

 **[Bianca]** What time did the party break up last night?

The response dinged as she was making sure Adore didn't trip and break her neck climbing out of the underwear tangled around her ankles.  Thankfully the shower was separate from the tub, and she dropped Adore on the bench inside before cranking the spray on full blast. 

She might have deliberately left it a bit cold, listening to the indignant yelp with a twinge of guilt as the glass door swung shut.

 **[Alaska Thunderfun]** Jinkxy woke me up at 5 singing, so probably then?

 **[Bianca]** Fuck.  Ok, thanks.

 **[Alaska Thunderfun]** ...

 **[Alaska Thunderfun]** Need help with the baby?

 **[Bianca]** Very funny queen.  We're good.  C u at the shoot?

Bianca waited until Alaska acknowledged her response, then tucked the phone into her pocket.  Adore had managed to give herself enough of a wash that she was presentable, although Bianca did wonder about the effectiveness of using conditioner before shampoo.  She failed spectacularly to secure the towel around her waist, stumbling out into the room naked and dripping water everywhere.  Even Bianca couldn't resist her pout, pausing in straightening out her favorite green wig to get her dressed again.

One pair of shorts and a hoodie later (Adore was going to have to deal with boxers, because there was no way Bianca was tucking her into a thong when she was still handsy drunk), Bianca led her firmly by the hand down the block to the IHOP she'd spotted last night.  At this rate, she was going to sprain her eye muscles from rolling them, steering Adore away from the admittedly rather cute guy who winked at them on the sidewalk.

Adore was still protesting when Bianca dumped her on the other side of the booth.

"But he was hottttttttt!  C'mon B, I bet he'd let you fuck 'im."  

Groaning, Bianca accepted menus from the server with a polite smile and kicked Adore very unsubtly under the table.

"Pick something to eat chola, and I'm not going to feed you."

Adore muttered something unintelligible from behind the menu, but quieted her squirming on the seat.

Bianca glanced up in relief as the server returned with water and coffee.  She looked like a college girl waitressing between classes, blushing as Adore winked at her and complimented her earrings.  

"Uhhhh...ummmm," she stammered, finally focusing on Bianca who gave her a tired smile and made her order mercifully short.

Adore had both elbows propped on the table, reaching across to tangle her fingers with Bianca's.  With her damp hair and traces of eyeliner still clinging to her bottom lashes, the drunken Delano charm dialed up to eleven probably made her look like a wet dream...or whatever it was women called it.

"And...what would you like to eat?" The server was having trouble making eye contact.

Grinning, Adore licked her lips.

"I eat ass like its pancakes."

"Oh my fucking god," Bianca freed one of her hands to slap it across her own eyes, wishing she'd ordered for them both.  "Give her pancakes, extra syrup."

The girl's face was bright red, and she nodded before fleeing back towards the kitchen and grabbing another server by the elbow.  Bianca cringed, hoping Adore's self-proclaimed whore mouth wasn't going to get them kicked out for sexual harassment.   Instead, a burst of feminine laughter came from beyond the partition, and Bianca turned to see their server dart back out of sight.  

When she returned a minute later with the syrup, Bianca caught a glimpse of dark green scrawled across the inside of her wrist.  Tilting her head, she could just make out the -ARTY! under the stack of bracelets and mentally groaned.  They would have to pick the restaurant in town whose staff were Drag Race fans.  She resolved to leave a large tip just to keep their questionable reputation intact.


	6. Dripping in Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous request from Artificial Queens tumblr: Instead of flowers Adore sends Bianca a bouquet of sex toys. Would love to see his reaction/response/the facetime call following it haha!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twenty-minute writing spree during my lunch break :)

_**[thebiancadelrio]**  When DAME JUDI DENCH and her fabulous daughter @fintywilliams send you flowers!  I AM NOT WORTHY!!!!_

Grinning so widely her cheeks ached, Bianca posted the photo to Instagram.  The high from last night’s opening performance had yet to wear off, buzzing through her body.  It felt like winning Drag Race all over again, minus the corset and Courtney and Adore at her sides.

_I miss those hookers._

She settled in front of the vanity table, checking her phone out of habit.  Dozens of notifications and texts from friends popped up, but nothing from the contact marked  _Pussyface._

Courtney had posted an excited message, but she’d yet to hear from Adore since her “break both legs, cunt! XOXOXOXOXO” text before the show.  Adore was scheduled to headline a gig with Bunny of all people (Bianca could appreciate the irony there), but she’d secretly hoped for one of her unexpectedly sweet captions accompanying a drunk selfie of the two of them on Instagram.

Her dressing room was near overflowing with flowers, piled on every available surface in a rainbow of colors.  From Michelle, Jackie, and Sherry’s vases lining the sill yesterday, it had spread outward in a roar of pinks, yellows, and whites.  Faye’s space next door wasn’t any better, and Bianca had jokingly told her that they would both need Benadryl shots to get through the week if bouquets kept arriving.  

One of the theater staff knocked on the partially closed door and she waved the young woman in, arms full of more roses.  

“Where would you like these, Mr. Haylock?“  

"Anywhere you can find space, my angel.  And it’s Roy, or Bianca if you’re more comfortable with that.”  She smiled gently at the blush as the girl scampered back out.

Standing, she went over to collect the cards to be able to send her own thank you’s in response.  Between the ribbons and stems, she spotted a plain brown box that seemed oddly out of place amidst the floral explosion.  

Bianca lifted the box out, surprised at the weight.  Turning it over revealed  **YANX - THOUGHT I’D SEND SOMETHING TO KEEP YOU COMPANY** scrawled across the label in unfamiliar handwriting, and she eagerly split open the tape on the sides.  

Only one person ever called her that.

Thumbing her phone awake, she started a video, deciding against Instagram.  This one would go straight to Adore, and maybe the ABCD.

“Pussyface!” she addressed the phone, “got your gift.  Miss you, and I can’t wait to open it.”

She propped the phone on the stack of cards and lifted the box onto her lap.

The contents were covered in packing paper, eventually revealing a bouquet of some sort wrapped in foil.  It seemed a bit too heavy to be flowers, but knowing Adore, she’d found the most outrageous blooms.

Tearing back the foil, Bianca froze for the space of two heartbeats before throwing her head back with a howl of laughter.  She slid down off the chair, collapsing on the floor in hilarity.

Faye popped her head in at the noise, took one look at the contents of the box, and closed the door again.  Even through the wall, Bianca could hear her laughing hysterically.

When the laughter died down to occasional fits of giggles, she wiped her hand across her eyes and pointed at the phone.

“Did you… oh my god … you cunt!  Only you would send me a bouquet of dildos.”

********

Adore accepted the FaceTime call on the fourth ring.  It was just before 4 am for the wayward mermaid, and Bianca waited patiently as she fumbled the phone upright.

“Bianx!”  Her face was half-buried in a pillow, but her green and gold eyes sparkled with mischief.  "Did you get my gift?”

“Where,” Bianca started in her most severe tone, “did you find those?“

Unfazed by the weak attempt at seriousness, Adore propped herself up with a hand under her chin and grinned.

"Hey, I know you’re over there alone and since you said you weren’t going to find trade…”

“Oh my god, you whore, couldn’t you have sent chocolate dicks?  Where am I going to put these?”

Bianca realized too late that she’d set herself up, and Adore didn’t let it slide.

“I know you’re old, but don’t you remember where?  There should be lube in the box, but I’d have had them write instructions if I knew-”

“Fuck you.”  She was smiling again, feeling those damnable dimples deepening.  Only Adore.

“Gotta go sleep, B.”  Her face moved close to the camera and she blew a kiss.  "Enjoy your new friends.“


	7. Snatched!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous request from AQ: "I love your fic of Bianca playing adore for snatch game on bots, could you write one where Adore surprises Bianca by coming out as her? Maybe Bianca is being the host and doesn't know till Adore appears."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping it non-AU by having it take place before Adore left for AS2, because as far as I remember she did have Bianca as her backup character for Snatch Game. And oh how I wish we'd been able to see that...

"Show me what else you've got?"

Bianca lounged on the couch surrounded by piles of drag and half-packed suitcases.  Still in drag after hosting a show, she'd ignored the stare from the Uber driver (typical) and his awkward attempts at flirting (not typical), and blown through the door at full force to find Adore already spreading her chaos across every available surface.

NDA or not, Danny's excited call a couple of days ago about accepting All Stars 2 made it clear that the planning had to include Bianca.  Roy kept his mouth shut at the objections he desperately wanted to voice - fallout from Danny' losing his dad, amongst other things - and promised his support in any way possible. 

They'd spent the better part of the last two hours going through Adore's drag, matching items to the list as best as they could and trying to guess what the challenges might entail.  Vintage shopping yesterday netted a gorgeous purple sequined shift that would go wonderfully with her crimped lavender wig, and they’d agreed on a half dozen other looks already before test driving for Snatch Game.  Adore's Snatch Game needed to be strong, even stronger than her season six Anna Nicole Smith if possible.  Without Bianca and DeLa giving her a run for her money, she should be a standout.  Her first choice seemed decent, but having a backup option was always a good idea. 

Danny had briefly complained about having to go into full drag and face for each look, but there was no way to get a complete opinion otherwise.  Because of that, she'd insisted that Bianca not watch her prep so that she would be able to give advice on the final product.  

Bianca was prepared to loan her anything she needed, and tried to guess what the character would be based on Adore banging around her closet and cursing.  After twenty minutes, Adore's voice drifted around the corner.

"Close your eyes!"

"Really?"  Bianca rolled them instead.

"I want it to be a surprise!"  

She’d teased that it was another queen, and Bianca tried to picture her dressed as Alyssa or Laganja in things garnered from her own extensive wardrobe.  Although, Adore did have a wicked DeLa voice...

"Fine, they're closed."

The sound of heels clicking nervously on the hardwood heralded Adore's arrival, tapping to a stop on the carpet in front of the couch. 

" 'Kay, you can open them."

Bianca blinked a few times, shook her head in disbelief, and tried to find her voice.

"You like it?"  

Adore had borrowed a pair of Bianca's platform pumps covered in jet black rhinestones, and her nude fishnets showed where she held the weighted hem up.  Above that, she was corseted tighter than ever before over actual padding, clad in a fitted black velvet cowl-neck sleeveless gown with oversized sequin flowers pinned at the shoulder and hair piled up to ridiculous heights.   _Was that **five** wigs? _An assortment of sparkly bangles and large bracelets worked their way up from her wrists to almost the elbows on both arms.  To top it off, Adore had picked Bianca's most obnoxious chandelier earrings to accompany the exaggerated eyes and what had to be eight pairs of lashes. 

She clutched a throw pillow in front of herself, cocked a hip, and grinned before schooling her face into a disapproving frown.  

"NOT TODAY SATAN!" 

Bianca opened and closed her mouth a few times, before starting at the floor and making her way up with a critical eye. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the clink of bangles as Adore fidgeted.  

"Well fuck me," Bianca managed at last.

”...was that a good fuck me?”

As she watched nervously, Bianca’s blank expression transformed into a howl of laughter, raspy cackle filling the room.  Unable to speak through it, she flailed wildly.  Adore’s smile drooped a bit on the edges, face gone anxious.  Her posture melted into a slouch, vaguely ridiculous given the silhouette of her outfit.

”...okay, I get it.  I look fucking stupid, and I’ll -“

Bianca pushed off the couch, catching her hand before she could do more than turn.  

“N- no!  Don’t!  It’s...fucking...hee hehehe hee hee- oh my fuck it’s _perfect_!”

"Yeah?"

"Lemme hear what you've got planned."  _This should be something else._  

 Adore scowled, dropping her voice and rolling her eyes.  "I ain't got time for this.  Beat it queen!  Need help packin' ?"

”Fuck you bitch, I do _not_ sound like that!  You sound like you’re gargling gravel in there.”  After a night of yelling at a crowd her own voice was scratchy and rough, and Bianca couldn't hold a straight face.  "All right fine, maybe I do."

She pulled her into the drag room to stand side by side in the mirror, ignoring how the usually neat racks of dresses looked like a tornado touched down.  Without her own heels on she was the better part of a foot shorter than Adore, but together they looked like Bianca standing next to some of the more accurate fan art.  Seeing her own signature evening gown on Adore’s body set her off again.

”Adore Del Rio,” she giggled, dabbing at her eyes, “this might be the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen.  Including Anna Nicole.”

“Really?"  

"Not when you stand with your mouth open like that," Bianca teased, nearly losing it again when Adore stuck her tongue out.  

"Put your hand on your hip.  No, like this," Bianca repositioned Adore's arm and tugged her knee until her right leg crossed in front of the left, bent slightly.  "Emphasizes the hips, it looks more feminine like that."

"We won't be doing runway like this, I'll fucking trip over the hem.  I hope?"  

“You wanna be prepared.  And you're taller so it won't hit the floor...Visage is going to love that."    

The sequined flower was perfect and she didn't need a necklace, but... “Here.”  She pulled the bracelets off and dug back into the jewelry drawers, discarding some and adding others to the pile.  She slipped them back onto Adore’s wrist sorted by color, switching the smaller beads for chunkier ones.  “Exaggerated but still detail oriented.”  

A second pair of less garish earrings followed, Bianca’s signature hoops with colored beads.  “In case you wanna use them for something else.  Now sit.”  She nudged her down in front of the vanity, picking up eyeshadow.  "Gotta get you beyond clown." 

Frowning in concentration, she gripped Adore's chin gently to hold her steady and reached for a lipliner.  "Your lips are full enough, don't overdraw, just make the Cupid's bow curved right here."  Adore had done a good job reproducing her eyes, although the liner was a bit more winged than Bianca would wear it.   Punk rock style or not, Danny was a talented makeup artist and the Bianca face only needed a little bit of adjustment.  “Raccoon territory next.  You need to avoid too much color on the lids.”  With a few deft strokes, she painted even darker eyes and added more white to the bottom lids before making the beauty mark bigger. 

Once satisfied that the face was right, Bianca collected a few items - two shades of gloss, new packages of lashes - and zipped them into a cosmetic bag with the earrings for Adore to pack.  "Stack them fresh, you don't want to wear someone else's lashes, who knows-"

"Yes mom."  Her tone of voice implied that this was yet another lecture.  "I know, but they're yours so..."  She wilted a little under Bianca's unimpressed stare.  "Okay fine, but it's not like I'm gonna get eye herpes from them."

Moving up from the face, Bianca studied the auburn curls tenuously balanced on her head.  Frowning, she pulled it apart to set three of the five wigs aside, teased and re-pinned, then nodded decisively.

“Forget you trying to do this in the workroom.  Let me style you a full wig so it’s ready to go.” 

Adore nodded and stood, leaning on the table for support.  Bianca narrowed her eyes when she noticed that she seemed to be slightly out of breath.

”Can you breathe in that?”

”Yeah?”

"That shouldn't be a question.  You need to be able to sit for an hour, you remember what it was like.  Show me how you’re cinched.”  When Adore seemed reluctant, Bianca bent to hike up the skirt of the gown, waiting until Adore took the fabric from her before peeling the dress up her midsection (thank goodness for stretch velvet) to reveal the corset.  

"Adore." The gently chiding tone was worse than annoyance.  "You're not Chachki for fuck's sake.  We can get rid of some of that padding and loosen it up."  While she spoke, Bianca turned Adore around to untie the laces before unzipping the front to reveal angry red welts where the boning strained around her waist.  Sighing, she pulled the tights down enough to work the pads out from underneath.   

"But..." Adore protested, "your waist is so small!"

"It's about proportion.  You've got enough to cinch in without the pads. Just make your tits a little bigger, squeezing down to this isn't going to even show when you're sitting behind a table."  Bianca searched on the side table for a tape measure, wrapping it around her own waist.  "I'm 29 corsetted, 30 with the gown.  I only take two inches off."

"I wanna get it right." 

The muttered comment seemed more weighted than just a corset disagreement and Bianca paused with her hands on Adore's hips.  "Pussyface?

"It's..." Adore met her eyes, more serious than she'd been the entire night.  "I don't want to disappoint you.  What if I fuck this up?" 

"Hey."  Even with the heels, Bianca still needed to tip Adore's chin up to make eye contact.  "You're gonna be amazing, you hear me?  They're lucky to have you, and it doesn't matter what happens on some reality tv show filmed in RuPaul's basement.  You could go home the first week and I'd still be proud of you for going back in to that fucking shark pit."

Adore was silent while Bianca zipped her back up and smoothed the dress back down.  Bianca turned her to face the mirror again, and was relieved to see the small smile.  

"Really, pussyface," she felt the need to repeat, "I'm so proud of you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bittersweet, because we know Adore didn't stay for Snatch Game. 
> 
> Regarding Bianca's waist measurement: her dress form is a 12, which has a 29 inch waist; additionally, it's quoted as 28 in an article from years ago and she looks to be about the same size now. (https://www.theadvocate.com/gambit/new_orleans/news/article_ccbbf97a-aa18-5551-9b82-7b53749974cb.html)


	8. Click Clack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request by the lovely jillybean2314 from the Season 6 episode 3 mini-challenge: Bea is with vivacious, and she keeps her pants on, with her swimming costume over them. Presuming because she's "too big " to fit in the costume and not enough time to tuck.

"...go!"

Twelve queens made a heated dash for the rack of swimsuits and skirts, elbowing each other out of the way to grab their targets.  Bianca waded in to the fray, ducking under Laganja's flying elbow and reaching around Adore. Her hand made contact with swimsuit fabric and she pulled blindly, coming up with a flower-printed one piece.

_Could be worse._

While everyone else was still fighting over sparkly bikinis, she was already at the mirror starting an express face.  As she swiped concealer over her jaw, Bianca was thinking ahead to the rest of the look.  Twenty minutes wasn't long, so there wasn't time for full eyes or getting corsetted.  Foundation done and brows more or less flattened, she looked up as the other girls struggled into their swimwear and shrugged.  They were going to have a rude awakening when they ended up with Willam levels of beard and messy faces.

Fifteen minutes to go.

Bianca considered and quickly dismissed shadow, instead painting on extra wide bands of black liner and applying glue.  It wouldn't stand up to close scrutiny, but her lashes should hide most of it.  Gia tripped over Joslyn who careened into Milk behind her, and she rolled her eyes at the unnecessary drama.  Lipstick was next, then a swipe of blush under each cheekbone, and she was ready to get dressed.

Eight minutes.

Boy clothes tossed aside, she stepped into the swimsuit and tugged it up securely, padding out the chest and hoping everything stayed in place.  Without a wig cap and glue, she didn't bother with the usual base wig, instead securing a single mass of curls over to the right.  Bangs went in next, the brown and blonde vaguely ridiculous against black.  She jammed a floppy hat over it all to hide the shortcuts, then pinned a yellow flower over her right ear and another at the center of the swimsuit neckline.

Digging into her jewelry (and thanking her obsessive organization tendencies), she came up with a set of pink beaded bracelets and two pairs of earrings.  Checking the clock - three minutes - Bianca pulled apart both pairs, mixing pink beads with green tops and clipping them on.

The blue skirt was next, covering her unshaved legs, and she checked it all in the mirror.

_Fuck._

Skirt or not, the swimsuit was doing a wonderful job of bringing everything between her legs forward into a decisively masculine bulge.  Bianca reached underneath, trying and failing to shift things back.  There was a reason she always padded and wore four layers of tights, and it wasn't just to conceal leg hair.  It was too late to put on tucking panties, and creating her standard smooth crotch would take more time than they had.

"Fuck this..."

Two minutes.

Hiking the skirt up, she caught Adore looking at her oddly when she ripped the swimsuit off and zipped herself back into her pants.  Muttering under her breath the whole time, she pulled the swimsuit and skirt back on and checked again.  The multiple layers of fabric and fitted pants compressed the bulge just enough that it wouldn't look like she had a sock stuffed down the front of her skirt.

Thirty seconds.  

Bianca grabbed for her red tinted sunglasses and looked around for Vivacious.

Time.


End file.
